The Plan
by CreativeImaginations
Summary: John has become distant from Sherlock. Lestrade suggests a bet to Sherlock, in which he cannot resist. This bet is supposed to try and get John away from his soon-to-be fiancee, Mary. What's the bet? Will it work? Read and find out! You know the drill, characters aren't mine, bla bla bla. Reviews are much appreciated. Enjoy! Possible JohnLock. Don't like? Don't read.
1. The Case of John Watson

**_So, this is my first Sherlock fic that I'm determined to start and to finish, I really hope you guys enjoy this as much as I do! So that you all know, the writing that's in _**_italics **are the character's thoughts. Mainly Sherlock's but it could be John's. You'll know who's who. The italic-bold writing is just a bit of a foreshadow, don't pay too much attention to it. I may not be able to update on consecutive days or weeks as I've got a few Summer trips coming up. I'll do my best to make up for it though! I don't own the characters, they belong to BBC Sherlock and are not mine. Once again, I hope you enjoy! Reviews are much appreciated, thank you!**_

* * *

**_What would you think if I sang out of tune,_**

**_Would you stand up and walk out on me._**

**_Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,_**

**_And I'll try not to sing out of key._**

* * *

"So John... How's Mary doing? I heard that you're planning on proposing." The detective inspector asked whilst he waited for Sherlock to make his deductions upon the case at the scene.

A limp and mangled dead man's body lay before Sherlock as he moved about, sniffing and observing to find clues. It didn't take too long before he came up with enough information to go on while John blabbed on about this and that of Mary. It was tedious and uninteresting to hear about a woman that he had contempt upon.

After a moment or two, Sherlock interrupted and spoke about the case and about what he'd found.

"Well, it's obvious that the man was shot and stabbed before he was pushed off the ninth floor ledge. It's too easy, there's obvious fingerprints on the dead man's clothing, there's oil prints on them, indicating that the killer worked at someplace near oil and there are also some prints on the ledge after he'd thrown off the body. The weight is nearly too heavy for him to push off without falling over himself, which was why he stopped himself with the ledge." Sherlock spoke and demonstrated as if he was the killer pushing the victim over and stopping himself with the invisible ledge before him. "So, I'm sure you can find the killer with the prints. As for the victim, he died from the stab wound, not the shot wound. As you see, he was shot in the side but stabbed in the back, it collided with his T3 vertebrae and separated completely at the intervertebral disk, but he was still breathing until the killer picked him up which caused his spinal cord to snap at the disk completely and that was when he died. Unfortunately for our victim, he's a tourist. Perhaps he was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

As soon as Sherlock was done, John started talking about his previous date and his plans on how to propose. This caused a flash of hurt and sadness to cross his face, coming out as a grimace. Of course, the inspector didn't miss this obvious emotion from Sherlock that John had overlooked.

Instead of waiting for John to finish his chat about his so-called girlfriend, Sherlock turned to head back to the flat, finding it inconvenient to waste his time listening to non-stop useless conversations.

Before he could even get in the cab that he'd hailed down however, he heard Lestrade's voice calling out his name and the voice was coming closer towards him.

"Can we grab a drink as soon as we finish up here? I think it's time we talked. John's got a date so don't worry about him. Just you and I. Alright?" Lestrade confirmed and walked off to help with the cleanup of the crime scene before Sherlock could get a reply in. By that time, John was already gone.

Sherlock decided to stay for now so he could catch a ride with Lestrade to the bar since it'd be a waste of time to go home because by the time he'd get home, it'd be time to leave to meet Lestrade. It would just be a waste of time and money.

An hour and a half later, Lestrade and Sherlock was sitting at the bar, drinking a pint of beer and some vodka, perhaps a shot or two to start off with. It took approximately ten minutes before Sherlock finally got tired of waiting and jumped right into it.

"So, I see you have an idea or some kind of reason that you want me here and to talk to me... What is it?" Sherlock asked out of curiosity, needing to know for his own sake.

"Well... Yes, you're right that I do have an idea and a reason to have you here now... It's about John." Lestrade paused to see his reaction, curious to see what he'd do, then continued when he knew he'd gotten Sherlock's full attention. "I can tell that you despise Mary and the thought of John being with her. You grimaced earlier when he cut you off on listing your deductions with more talk of Mary."

Lestrade stopped to take a large swig of his beer before he carried on telling him of his thoughts. "Anyways, my idea was that you could do things per week for John, like cleaning the flat and... Try to prove yourself better and show that you really do care about him more than Mary does and perhaps he'll find his way back to you instead. It cannot be something you do all the time, it needs to be something that you don't do often. It has to last at least a month though, one or more things per week and you have to stick with it through the whole seven days. I'm going to make a bet and if you manage to do the whole thing right to the end then you win, if not... I win. Say... A hundred pounds?"

Slowly, Sherlock took his time over a few sips and gulps to think about it before he decided. "Five hundred and you're on. What happens if John doesn't come back to me?"

"We'll have to see when the time comes, won't we? Our bet doesn't have anything to do with John, even if he comes back or not, it doesn't affect our bet. You choose what you do per week though. Keep me updated on it in any way you like whatsoever." Lestrade slurred just a bit.

"Oh, and Sherlock? If you need any help with anything, then let me know, I won't hesitate to help, it won't affect the bet either, I promise." Lestrade added after a moment as Sherlock downed the last of his drink.

"Don't worry Lestrade, I'll figure it out." Sherlock mumbled as he stood. "After all, I'm the one who wants John back." With that, the consulting detective slipped on his coat and managed to saunter out without a stumble.

After Sherlock had slipped from Lestrade's sight, he muttered under his breath to himself. "For your own sake, you're not the only one who wants John back with you, Sherlock."

With that, the older man finished his drink and also left the bar.

* * *

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. **

**Written by LZ**


	2. The First Step

_**So, here's chapter 2 to make up for the short chapter 1. Don't worry, the chapters to come will be longer. Thanks! Be sure to review please. :)**_

* * *

Thankfully, Lestrade had given Sherlock the rest of the week to think about the whole bet thing. Sherlock needed to come up with some ideas of what he would do for each week.

_Of course, it has to last at least a month, which meant one thing per week at least. Well, there was so much that I could do but yet it seems so difficult to think of something that I would get motivated to do. Cleaning the flat? Nope. Making food? Nope. Experimenting? Yes... No._

An annoyed groan escaped Sherlock as he flopped onto the sofa, laying on his back as his fingers perched under his chin. It was making him feel irritated that he couldn't seem to figure anything out at the moment. For god's sake, he was a consulting detective, why couldn't he think!

_Didn't Lestrade say that it had to be something that I don't do on a daily basis. Which I should be doing, he was hinting at that obviously. Time to list out my activities then. Experimenting? Yes. Cases? Yes. Sleeping? No but that doesn't count. Thinking? That's not an activity, well... Only in the brain. It needs to be physical. So tedious._

Well, he only had three days to figure everything out. This was going to be much harder than he thought. Hard for a consulting detective but so easy for normal people. Being normal was so uninteresting and such a waste of time, but every time he reminded himself why this bet originally came into place, it'd snap him right back to it.

That's when it hit him. _What does John do that I don't? Clean. Cook. Laundry. Shop._

_Perfect. I've got four weeks down, I need a few more ideas. What else does John do?..._

The consulting detective ran out of thoughts later on and managed to go out and buy himself a book that he could write in, most commonly known as a diary or a journal. Sherlock preferred to call it his notebook where he could write down all the things he was going to do for John and the bet. Sherlock would even write down the things he'd done after he'd do them down to the letter. For some reason, Sherlock wasn't sure why he felt the urge to write in his notebook for all the things he did and felt as he did them. There was something deep down that was pushing him to do this. Sherlock didn't need to of course but he decided he'd do it anyway.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Two days later *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After receiving a text from Lestrade, Sherlock was forced to meet him about the bet. Of course, tomorrow was the day he'd start his month-long bet. Being sure that he'd bring his notebook with him, he'd written down the plan he had for the weeks ahead. Five hundred pounds and John was on the line. The lanky detective had to do this, it was important to him. The money wasn't as important as John but it'd be rather nice to get both. He wouldn't have to worry about rent for one but John meant so much more than that to him.

Sitting in Speedy's Cafe, he had ordered a regular-sized coffee with two creams, no sugar. As he waited for Lestrade, he fiddled with his flat keys and allowed himself some time to deduce random people to help himself relax while he could. It didn't take long before he was halfway through his drink and the inspector had finally arrived, nearly an hour late. Lestrade's excuse was that there had been a car chase.

A simple small hum escaped Sherlock as he acknowledged Lestrade's excuse then he started to give the hint that he was already bored and wanted the older detective to get on with the reason he'd been called out to the cafe.

"Ah, right... Alright, down to business then. I just wanted to check with you and confirm if you still want to do this bet and I was wondering what you had planned for each week. Just so that I can make sure you're not cheating the bet."

"Just for that? Right then. Read that. I've written down ideas and I have some thoughts on how to organize this. I've already put them in order." As Sherlock spoke, he slid his black leather notebook across the table towards Lestrade.

It was so boring, waiting for the older man to take seven and a half seconds to read over what he'd planned. Meanwhile, observing the traffic and weather outside in silence.

Lestrade's reply interrupted his thoughts once more with several words of approval. "So still on with the bet, I can tell. You're really going to do this?"

"Yes, Inspector Lestrade. Is that all?" Sherlock's monotone voice slit through Lestrade's question as the divorced man slid the leather notebook back across the table.

"Well, I suppose it is but I need to know if you're doing it or not so I'll need proof. If you've got some proof, then text me and we'll figure something out." With that, the inspector stood as he heard his pager go off. "I got to run. Remember, it starts tomorrow!" Lestrade called as he ran out the door towards his police car.

"Of course, how could I forget." Sherlock muttered, managing to finish off his now warm coffee before tossing the cardboard cup into the garbage then returned to his flat.

Now, there was just a few more things he needed to add to his notebook before he'd begin, remembering to record the dates. That was important for future reference.

_This had better work. It needed to work or else it all would have been for nothing, even if I won the bet... The bet doesn't matter to me anymore, John does._

Hell... Sherlock would even go as far as to admit to himself that he was in love with John and no one else but him.

* * *

**Written by LZ**


	3. Missing Piece

**I'm so sorry guys, I thought I would have posted sooner but my summer vacation decided to keep me even busier, but here's the third chapter. Written mainly in John's POV. I hope you guys enjoy! The fourth chapter will be coming right up as well. I'm currently working on it!**

* * *

The first time that John had seen Mary, it was in a cafe where he usually sat with Sherlock on a case, but Sherlock was gone, at the time, he was "dead". It was strange because John just happened to glance over after having taken a sip of his coffee, of which he nearly choked upon when he saw the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. John could have sworn that she was a model of some kind.

Without really thinking, John walked up to her and introduced himself and realized what he'd just done then got all nervous and flustered then he just gave her his card before quickly walking away, feeling stupider than ever. Eventually, the woman had called him back and John was more than surprised. The call made him feel a little lucky even though he was missing Sherlock and was in an emotional mess.

It didn't take long before they had their first date and John tried his hardest not to think about the recent loss of his best friend. It was so hard but Mary saw right through him and knew immediately that John was a broken man needing repair. It took a long time but Mary refused to give up on John and managed to get the ex-army doctor back to what seemed like normal to her.

So, here they were... Together and going strong. Mary had finally helped John through everything but as soon as Sherlock came back Mary had taken to hating Sherlock for the pain he'd put John through.

When the day came of Sherlock's return all the emotions welled back up and John had returned to the condition of being un-social, shutting everyone out. Except Mary. John didn't know why he felt so attached to Mary, so trusting towards her. Perhaps because she'd been there for him when Sherlock hadn't.

Months flew past, John was able to forgive his best friend, but became very distant. If anything, Sherlock had changed from being his best friend, to just another one of John's old friends because of the negativity that Mary kept feeding him about Sherlock. Even though Sherlock had already explained everything about the fall. Every once in awhile, John would miss that feeling he got when he was around Sherlock, solving crimes together, the adrenalin rush during a chase, the way he felt smarter since Sherlock had become so much more patient towards John and only John.

While the distance that had gaped further apart, John had grown much more closer with Mary. Even though it had been three years, Mary and John hadn't exactly moved in together but all of John's things was still at 221B. John had yet to find the time to entirely move in with Mary. John only spent most of his time at Mary's flat rather than his own. He'd pop in every once in awhile but only when the situation called for it, such as him and Mary having a row, Mary being out of town for work or if Sherlock wanted him to stop by for whatever reason.

Even though they had all their troubles, John still wanted to marry Mary. He decided that in about a month, he would make a more final and permanent promise with his love for the proposal of marriage to Mary. John would have been pleased to ask sooner when the time was right but he had to wait until the ring he ordered came in. After the ring would come in, he would give himself some time to wrap his mind around the idea of marriage with Mary. It was a rare diamond that could only be found in the deep depths of caves located in South America.

Having been called over to 221B for a visit with Sherlock since he'd been lonely, John had seemed to forget the fact that he was Sherlock's only friend. Lestrade was slowly becoming Sherlock's friend but there was some things that Sherlock found extremely dull about the inspector. The army doctor was the only one that could manage to keep Sherlock sane and calm. Time seemed to get away from John when he was with Sherlock because there was far too much that they needed to talk about.

It had been just past six when John realized the time. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Sherlock, I've got to run. I'm late for my date with Mary. Let's pick up this chat again another time? Text me again and I'll stop by again." John spoke as he stood and rushed over to put his coat on. "And Sherlock? I had a good time. I miss this." John added before he rushed down the stairs.

As soon as John had left, Sherlock grimaced at the name of Mary. _Mary this, Mary that. Sod Mary. I'll have John back soon, don't you worry, Mary. I'll take him off your hands so you can go right ahead and continue your life as a prostitute. Whore._

"So, how was your, little, _visit_ with Sherlock go?" Mary had started the conversation quickly, a tone of disapproval leaving her because of John being an hour late for their date. John couldn't help but turn his expression into a concerned one as he was a bit unsure of how Mary was thinking. John hated the fact that it was so easy to make mistakes in a relationship, John didn't want to lose her because this was as far as he'd gotten in a relationship. As he sat across from his girlfriend, he rubbed the back of his neck out of nervosity, soon giving Mary an apologetic smile.

"The visit went well... Sorry, Mary. It won't happen again." John replied back quickly, his lips puckering for a moment as he drummed his fingers on the table. Mary just sighed softly, bringing her wine to her red lips.

Mary had always gotten a bit tense from John's return of his little 'visits' as she called them with Sherlock. Since John hardly ever saw his friend, it was mainly just in fear that one day Mary would get so upset that she'd become another one of his exes, leaving him for jealousy of John spending more time with his friend rather than his girlfriend. The reason why John felt so afraid, was because he actually felt love towards Mary, unlike any other one of his exes. John only dated them to prove to the press that he wasn't_ gay_.

This time, the date was a bit quieter with the tension of what John deduced was jealously and anger of his late arrival. The two ate quietly but John attempted to make small talk but Mary kept turning it into a full conversation of pointless and useless things about her day. The conversations were tedious and uninteresting, which was beginning to irritate John more or less, although he had to remember, he was a bit of the bad guy in this situation.

John went back to Mary's flat as usual. Nothing new really happened. John stripped down to his comfortable boxers for the night as Mary slipped into her silky nightdress. They both kissed goodnight and got comfortable under the covers, tangling themselves in a warm embrace before slipping off into a slumber. One thought occurred to John before he managed to drift to sleep._ I don't have any friends... If I do, I'll lose Mary... She's all I've got right now. I miss Sherlock... Life isn't just the same without him._

For Sherlock in particular, his only friend now slowly drifting even further away from John. John had a hard time coping with the fact that he knew he was dropping everything and doing everything that Mary wanted. John couldn't help but feel stolen. Stolen from Sherlock.

* * *

**Written by TKOD**


	4. The Story Begins

**Looks like you all are lucky tonight! I managed to finish chapter four! Here it is! I hope it's good. Enjoy! **

**Please don't feel offended if your name is Mary. There's a few swearing in this, but nothing too hardcore. Thanks!**

* * *

**_Week One- Cleaning the Flat._**

**_Entry One_**

**_November 1st, 2013_**

_Today, I begin my bet with Lestrade and attempt to get John back. I suppose I should start off by writing in the notebook._

Well, this is the first day of the bet that I made with Lestrade, it's already boring but I suppose I should do something to initiate it. I'm tired, didn't sleep that well last night, but then again, that's nothing new. I hardly sleep or eat when John isn't here nagging me about it. I've already planned out the weeks to come as to what I should do. The flat is already clean but I suppose Lestrade wouldn't know if I made a huge mess out of it and I'm sure if the flat is messy enough, John will ask me to clean it up. As usual, it's that time of the year to do spring cleaning. I know John will ask me to clean it up, he always does.

-SH

Sherlock sighed and set his notebook aside before he checked his watch. It was still seven in the morning, at least Lestrade isn't coming over to see the flat yet. Sherlock smirked to himself as he managed to encourage himself to make a cup of tea first.

It was like this nowadays, waking up early because he was used to waking up when John awoke so he'd make the most out of the company that he had, but since John was hardly home nowadays, he seemed to keep up his habit of getting up early but he kept going to bed later and later each and every night. There was no one to nag him to go to sleep. Many hours went by in the day that he'd work on a case for so long and come home only to flop on his sofa to slip into his mind palace. Some days he'd go without eating until he'd get that twist of pain in his stomach from no food. John was no longer around to remind him that he needed to eat, or to make him food. Sherlock was the most awful cook in the world, he'd always burn food or make it undercooked, or he'd attempt to make the most simplest of things and manage to screw up something somehow.

After he'd finished his tea and had a piece of toast to eat, he set on cluttering the kitchen table with as many of his experiments as possible, he set things down without breaking them such as the chair on it's side with the sofa tilted to the back just slightly and shifted in an awkward spot, his chair also flipped to the side. Now it was time to get it really messy, Sherlock grabbed many books off the shelves and flung it across the floor against a huge pile, wood for the fire also cluttered around along with papers from cases scattered all over the floor. All Sherlock had to do was throw them around and push things over. Even grabbing his and John's laundry and making the living room look like a massive mess. Now, he grabbed all the dirty dishes and placed them randomly in the bedrooms, both John's and himself. Time to make the bathroom messy, now this was harder to do. Sherlock brushed his teeth and left the remnants of what had come out of his mouth, in the sink. Shaving his face and leaving all the bits of hair on the sink as well, soon grabbing toilet paper and scattering it around just a little before turning on the bathwater and leaving the bathtub full of water, dumping some shampoo and shaving cream into the tub before he dropped a towel or two in there.

_Perfect._

_**Entry Two**_

Now, I've got the flat in a massive mess, everything is scattered and it now looks like a tornado stormed through the flat. Wood, papers, books, clothes are now scattered all over the living room, a couple chairs turned over to the side and the sofa is sitting unnaturally at an angle towards the door of the flat, also tilted up with a stack of books underneath the leg of it. The kitchen table is a huge mess of my experiments, decomposing limbs laying around on the countertops and some in the cupboards. Bedrooms, well... All the dirty dishes are placed in strange places in both bedrooms, John and mine. The bathroom is a mess as well. Of course, I didn't leave out the bathroom, filled up the tub with water with a bit of shampoo, shaving cream and a couple of towels. The bathroom sink has my toothpaste mingled with my spit and my shaved facial hair that fell into there. Also, toilet paper is scattered around the bathroom. I think I made the flat a good mess that now needs to be cleaned. I just need to wait for John to come home and ask me to help him clean it and this time, I will.

-SH

**_November 2nd, 2013_**

**Come by the flat and visit. -SH**

**I'm busy. I've got work and a date with Mary. Sorry. -JW**

_**Entry Three**_

John hasn't come home yet, I asked him to come by but he says he's busy with work and ugh, that Mary. She's winning right now but I hope it won't be much longer.

-SH

_**November 3rd, 2013**_

**Come by if convenient. -SH**

_**Entry Four**_

John has yet to answer my text. I hope he comes by, it's getting far too lonely. There hasn't been cases as of yet. Bored.

-SH

**Sorry Sherlock, I left my phone at home and went to work, just got home and it's already late. Some other time. -JW**

**Fine. -SH**

_**Entry Five**_

John apparently forgot his phone at home. The lady most likely read his messages. I hate her. I'm already frustrated because the flat is now starting to stink of decomposing bodies and it has yet to bother me. John better come home soon.

-SH

**_November 4th, 2013_**

**_Entry Six_**

I hope John can come by today, for some reason I feel the urge to use my stash of cocaine but I refuse to give in. This is just a little urge, that is all. I'm just missing John, he's my choice of drug and he's always kept my mind off of any of my bad habits, such as smoking and cocaine. I need John.

-SH

**What're you doing today? -SH**

**Work. -JW**

**Come by after work? -SH**

**Busy. -JW**

**_Entry Seven_**

That was not John who answered my texts. John doesn't talk like that. Sodding bitch got his phone again! I'm going to die of boredom at this rate, please, please have John come by. God! Bloody whore!

-SH

**_November 5th, 2013_**

**_Entry Eight_**

Well, two more days until I move onto something new of the bet, if John doesn't come home. I'll be forced to clean up my own mess. That's just not fun without him. I miss my blogger, my flatmate. Feeling depressed today, the urge for cocaine is a little stronger today but I still refuse. I will not give in. I'm not going back to rehab.

-SH

**John, I nee-**

**Sherlock, I need to grab something from the flat so I'll be coming by today, perhaps we can fit in a little visit after work. -JW**

**-Deletes previous attempted message-**

**Very well, see you in a few hours. -SH**

**_Entry Nine_**

Well, that was unexpected but now I'm feeling rather giddy that John's finally coming over to grab whatever he needs and hopefully he'll ask me to help him clean the flat, god, please ask me to clean the flat. At least if he doesn't, there's a little visit too. Please let there be no date tonight.

-SH

Sherlock sighed and lounged around on the sofa, after all that had been all he had done lately, apart from a few phone calls from Mycroft and Lestrade. Even that girl, Molly who had a crush on him, called to check on him because he hadn't been at the morgue for any of his experiments.

Another cup of tea gone before John finally arrived, Sherlock tried to act as normal as possible in his dirty, stained white sheet, of course he had clothes on underneath for the moment.

"Hello John. It's good to see you again." Sherlock's face brightened up and he tried to hide the fact that his figure was getting smaller each time John came by, just a little.

"Sherlock." John couldn't help but smile and give him a hug in which Sherlock returned awkwardly. "How you've been?" After stepping into the flat, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of dead bodies. Such an awful stench that was.

"Eh, I suppose I could be better but I've been alright." Sherlock lied easily as he sat back down in his seat. "How are you and... your girl?" Sherlock refused to say that name. _That ugly name_.

"Mary? Oh she's wonderful. Taking up most of my time though. Wow, I see you've kept the place... tidy." John added slowly, adding a bit of a sarcastic tone.

"Yep, I've been slowly going insane without company and cases." Sherlock spoke in a monotone voice with just a tinge of sadness and melancholy in his tone.

"Ah, well, you have Mrs Hudson to keep you comp-"

"It's not the same John. She's always out and about nowadays with her new friends."

"Ah right, well.. I suppose I should get what I need and leave, I don't want to bother you from... whatever you were doing. Text me if you need me though." John stood and looked about the flat, his gaze stopping on the pile of clothes scattered around, recognizing some of his clothes but he said nothing as he rushed up the stairs to grab his coat and some extra things. The truth was that he wanted to stay but Mary was waiting outside and she would be upset if he kept her waiting.

"Thanks for the... visit." John spoke as he went to hug Sherlock again, in which he reluctantly returned, not wanting him to go. Sherlock slumped in his seat and looked around the messy flat as John left, he barely caught the glimpse of Sherlock's saddened feature.

"God John if only you understood that you're never a bother for me." Sherlock planted his face into his hands before letting out a long sigh, feeling resigned. Plan A backfired.

_**Entry ten**_

Well, John came over... Not even for five minutes, he needed to grab his coat and a little box of his things, looks like he's starting to move out, little by little. He stopped and saw his clothes scattered, definitely smelled the decomposing limbs and I'm sure he noticed the dishes in his room too, he never bat an eye about it. How disappointing, I was expecting him to say something. Now I have to clean up the sodding mess tomorrow. I doubt John's coming over again this week. I hope next week works. At least for the moment, my urge for cocaine disappeared.

-SH

_**November 7th, 2013**_

_**Entry eleven**_

Took me all day yesterday and most of today to clean the bloody flat. Had to drain the tub, wring out the towel, clean it before I could chuck it into the laundry, cleaned the tub with that cleaning agent, picked up all the pieces of toilet paper, washed the sink thoroughly and the bathroom was done. Took me two hours to do the bathroom. Now, the living room, at least I got all the clothes into the wash. The rest, I decided to leave that for today. I got rid of every single body part there was in the flat, dumped out my experiments, yes all of them. Washed every single dish, beaker, cylinder and I even had to specially clean my microscope before I put everything back into it's safe place. All my experiment tools are under the sink with the microscope in the corner. Wiped down every surface in the kitchen and I even had to buy a new refrigerator since ours were becoming smelly and moldy I started on filing the papers back into their original places. Needless to say that I had to shower and take a long bath before sleeping, not only that but I actually slept solidly for hours. Not a bad sleep at all.

Now for today, I returned the wood pieces back into it's spot, moved every book back into it's alphabetical order on the shelves, filed away each and every paperwork of cases, vacuumed every room, swiffered every room as well. Even the rug had been cleaned, turned all the chairs back and the couch back to it's original place. Even the magazines and newspapers were filed away for future use if John ever wanted them again. I even cleaned the fireplace out well. Needless to say that the flat was perfectly clean again, cleaner than before in fact. Tomorrow starts a whole new week. For the rest of the day, I shall rest and enjoy my cup of tea.

-SH

* * *

**Written by LZ**


	5. Everything goes Squeak

**Hello everyone! I hope everything's going well, this is a long chapter and please don't be offended by anything in this chapter. Warning: Angst. Please review if you can! :) Enjoy!**

* * *

_**November 8th, 2013**_

_**Entry Twelve**_

So, this week, it turns out that I'm going to clean everything else that I can possibly think of, that includes laundry, ironing, changing the bed sheets and somehow cleaning every other fabric possible in the flat. I hope John comes by at some point this week and catches me ironing the curtains or even folding the laundry. After what happened last week, I'm doubtful that he'll even stop by but I can't help but hope. Lestrade says John will propose as soon as his ring comes in, which will be in two to three weeks from now as far as I know. Please mess up the order. Please have something go wrong.

-SH

After writing in his notebook, Sherlock decided to get up and make his tea as usual. There was not one minute that he didn't think of John every day. Even in his dreams, John was there. Nowadays, Sherlock kept getting nightmares about Mary actually winning and getting John. The consulting detective hated the fact that he had no one to listen to his violin at night. Sherlock had a secret, it was that whenever John had nightmares that he could hear from his room, he'd always play his violin at night. It was his way of waking John up in a nice way, or easing him back into sleep with better dreams.

Deciding to start off the day with something easy to do, he gathered up everything that needed to be thrown into the wash, even the curtains and the towels. Anything that had fabric.

**Whenever you get the chance, please come over. -SH**

**Let me know when it would be convenient for you to stop by. -SH**

**I'll try. I'll have to see when I can. -JW**

**Good. Please do inform me whenever. -SH**

_**November 9th, 2013**_

_**Entry Thirteen**_

I texted John yesterday and I don't know when he'll be able to come over but I hope he can come soon, or at least texts me before he comes because I want to impress him with the state of the flat and to show him that I'm better than that woman. For bloody god's sakes, no one will be able to understand how much I miss him. I can't stop thinking about him and all those memories... I'll never delete that from my drive. If there was anything that I could do to get him back, I would do it in an instant. It'll be hard to drag out this week but I can do it.

-SH

Today, he decided that actually putting clothes in the wash would do him some good as he let out a soft sigh, four loads of laundry, that was going to be fun. All he needed was to put each in the wash and the dryer when they were finished. Sherlock's plan was that he would fold the laundry tomorrow and leave the ironing for the rest of the week. It didn't sound like much but it was a lot more than he thought.

At least at the end of the day he wasn't as exhausted as he had been with trying to rush the cleaning of the flat on the last few days on the previous week. Unfortunately for him, this meant he wasn't tired enough to try and fall asleep again, as usual he had a harder time trying to fall asleep.

_**November 10th, 2013**_

_**Entry Fourteen**_

I guess today I should probably fold the clothes and put them away, it's a good thing that I can tell which socks are John's and which are mine. Four loads. That'll take me awhile, but I'm sure that with time, it'll get easier and better, maybe it won't be as hard as I would have originally thought.

-SH

All day long, he hoped that he would hear back from John, deciding that perhaps it would be a good idea to stop and back off a little to see if John thought of him, or even attempted to text him. Sherlock was feeling more and more less worthy of being anyone's friend. Of course, he had zoned out and slipped into a deep train of thoughts, one of them being that he didn't deserve a good friend like John, or even Mrs Hudson. Due to not showing any appreciation towards them, or even not doing anything to make them feel like they were worth caring for. Now he had never felt so alone until now, it was as if it had finally struck him that being alone was something that could never protect him.

With each hour that passed, his mood kept deteriorating because he had no one to talk to, or listen to. All Sherlock wanted was someone, but he kept denying that truth due to the fact that he felt like that this was his punishment for not paying attention to his friendships, or feelings.

**_Entry Fifteen_**

After having done laundry and folding them, every last matched sock pair, I put them away in their rightful place. I now understand that it isn't as hard as it seems. I think if I had to choose something to help around the house with, it would be laundry and dishes. All I want is John back, I'm sorry for not having done anything helpful but cases. I'm sorry John, I'll do whatever you ask from here on in. I know it's been exactly two years, two months and a week since John met Mary, not just that but it's also been nearly an year that I've come back. Just in two weeks, it'll be that day, only then will I see if I truly do matter.

-SH

After having gone to bed that night, Sherlock didn't sleep well at all due to his mental need for an attempt at something ridiculously stupid or even a case hit him hard enough to cause him to curl up against his sheetless mattress.

In the morning, he set on ironing the curtains without a cup of coffee, determined to finish off the week already, not wanting to even think of John. He was angry enough to almost burn the curtain, also refusing to fill in his notebook for the moment. It was also because he had hardly slept, he was far more thinner than he had been before and the stench of body odour was beginning to penetrate the flat, it didn't take that long before stubble was slowly morphing into a short beard.

It took him half of the day to iron all the curtains and to hang them all up. Just after he had managed to finish every curtain, he felt the familiar twinge of pain in his gut, signaling that he needed food. Soon heading into the kitchen to make himself something that would be filling, at least for himself. When he went to the bathroom, he managed to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror, causing himself to cringe before he finally decided on taking a shower, which was exactly what he needed to help with his mood and the smell. After he had stepped out, he carried on, to shave his face with an old-fashioned blade and soon the minty aftershave came. Finally, he was feeling better physically but he refused to stop with his ironing work. Next came the sheets and covers for the mattresses, that didn't really need ironing but he just felt like doing it.

_**November 12th, 2013**_

_**Entry sixteen**_

I didn't update yesterday because I was upset. Angry at myself, I'm not sure why. I'm rather confused. I've never felt so emotional before. I was angry at John, at myself. I shouldn't deserve someone like John, I've hurt him and I've scared him away. I shouldn't even be trying to do this stupid bet, I'm starting to lose hope, I don't know if I can get John back anymore. I think it's too late already. I'll try for the money anyways just to prove that I can be better than I am now. I need to change. I can't be like this anymore. I think this is the final draw. I ironed all the curtains and the sheets along with some of the suits and button-up shirts. I took great care, especially with John's favorite shirt of mine. Ironing isn't so bad either. It's been exactly four days since I've heard from John… The more time that passes that he doesn't text or come by, the more I'm losing my hope and my mood slowly continues to decline… I think I'm depressed. Not enough to need help yet.  
-SH

There was only two more days before he had to move onto the following week that he had planned. All he had left to iron was the other things that there was left, such as the tablecloths and some more sheets then he had to spray that so-called scenter thing that cleaned up the bacteria in furniture, to fold the towels and place them away and wash the windows and any other utilities, such as the toilet, tub, sink, shower, kitchen sink and all taps. Never in his life, had he seen such a clean flat and not just that, but it'll be even cleaner and much more organized..

**Sherlock, sorry I've been really busy in the last few days with work and other things. I can come over Thursday, how's that sound? -JW**

**Great, let me know when you're on the way. -SH**

**Will do. -JW**

**_November 13th, 2013_**

**_Entry seventeen_**

OH IT'S CHRISTMAS! John texted last night before I went to bed. Okay, now I need to keep cleaning and have him catch me doing it, that way he'll be impressed and will want to move back. Oh yes! My mood definitely is up today! I feel like dancing across London.

-SH

Sherlock decided that he would leave all the harder stuff until tomorrow, and only the folding of the towels, the washing of the windows and mirrors along with the scented spray would be done for today, he would make sure he was working on the ironing and the cleaning of the harder stuff tomorrow when John would come by. Sherlock was hoping that would convince John or somehow get him to visit more often. There was nothing more that Sherlock needed apart from someone.

Sherlock Holmes, needed a friend.

He needed John.

_**November 14th, 2013**_

_**Entry eighteen**_

John's coming by today, I can't wait for his arrival. I can't decide now if I should dress in my purple shirt and good trousers or if I should just make it look as if I haven't been doing well, with my pajamas and robe on with messy hair while doing the work. Hmm… If I look good, John will think I'm better off without him, if I look awful, he might be compelled to come back to take care of me… I think I choose awful sleep-lookalike. Right, well I think I'll have some tea and toast and wait until John texts me before getting right to work to make it look like I've been working all morning. So excited!

-SH

It didn't take him long before he had gotten the text from John that he was on his way and would be over in ten minutes. Sherlock smirked and finished off his tea and toast before quickly placing it into the dishwasher he had bought recently. Soon heating up the ironing machine. Grabbing things to put along the arm of the armchair so that it looked like he had a little to do, but then he got another idea and shut off the ironing machine. Sherlock hurried to the kitchen sink to scrub it down to make it look rather clean before he rushed over to the bathroom sink, doing the same, soon hearing John's footsteps ascend the stairs to the flat. Sherlock exhaled and squirted some of that blue cleaning agent into the toilet, getting on his knees as he did so. Now taking the toilet scrubber and wearing some yellow gloves, he made it look like he was working hard, sweat beading at his head as he scrubbed away at the inside.

"In here John! I'm just cleaning the toilet." Sherlock called when he heard the door shut after it had been opened.

"Oh- Mary's off at meetings and work all day and I've got the day off so I can visit for as long as I can." John spoke as he looked around the flat, surprised at the cleanliness compared to last week, plus the stench of rotting things were gone. Everything was extremely spotless. John froze at the sight of the ironing machine sitting on the ironing table with a shirt splayed over it, along with a few other shirts, some he recognized as his own, just hanging off the arm of the sofa as if waiting for their turn. _That was surprising, not only but that, the flat smelled wonderful, lavender and honey and… something clean?_

_Did Sherlock just say he was cleaning the toilet?_ John shrugged it out of his mind as he continued to look through the kitchen, completely void of experiments and there was now a new fridge and a dishwasher… _When was Sherlock able to afford that?_ John sighed and was surprised, now noticing that there was not a speck of dust in sight._ Wonder if Sherlock's room or mine is just as clean?_ John slipped past quietly to Sherlock's room. Seeing the bed neatly made and everything put away as if nothing was out of place, even not a piece of clothing in sight, John's mouth gaped open as if in shock. _There was no way Sherlock could have done this on his own… Last week was a sodding disaster but now… Did he hire a maid or something? Oh I need to see my room!_

The consulting detective couldn't help but smirk as he heard the familiar creak on that certain wooden piece, right at the outside of his door to his room. Knowing that John was shocked and surprised._ Good, that's what I'm aiming for._ _John had better bring up something about it._ His thoughts were interrupted by John running for his room, chuckling quietly to himself as he shook his head, taking his time to clean the toilet.

After John had arrived into his room, he felt as if he was going to faint. His own room had never looked so… neat and clean before. There would always be one thing out of place but his room was absolutely perfect. All clothes in their rightful places, bed made, desk organized and cleaned, closet with everything hung and shoes nicely paired together on the floor, boxes of his other stuff still in place. Not a dirty piece of clothing was in the laundry basket._ Impressive. I'm proud of him._ Slowly, John made his way back down to check out the bathroom, noticing Sherlock hard at work, scrubbing away at the toilet. John leaned against the doorframe, watching. "Very impressive Sherlock, so different compared to last week. Where did you get the money for the new dishwasher and refrigerator? Not just that but the maid? Where is she? Unless you've done this yourself, which is hard to believe but you're cleaning the toilet so I suppose you get credit for that."

Almost feeling hurt at John's words, Sherlock sighed and paused, looking up at John. "I did it all. Ask Mycroft, he probably has a camera or something on me. Mrs Hudson probably knows too. I have money in my bank John, more than enough for when it's necessary." Sherlock sighed, looking a little more pale than the last time John had seen him. "I understand if you don't believe me, I just felt that it was best to clean up if I had unexpected guests, I want to impress, not disgust, John. I'm sorry you felt revolted last week." Sherlock spoke, keeping his voice smooth and cool as he continued to clean the toilet, it didn't take too long before it was finished and clean. Sherlock sighed and soon looked over to the shower and tub. "So how's… things?" Sherlock attempted conversation even though he wasn't the best at it.

"Pretty good I suppose, rather busy too. What about you? Lestrade told me that you've only been taking the light cases and Mrs Hudson told me she's heard absolutely no ruckus from you, nor experiments. Sherlock, talk to me. What's going on? You're never like this." John pressed, wanting to know what was different now.

Sighing, Sherlock paused before attempting to wash the glass doors of the shower. "John.. I haven't really been doing too good lately, especially after you left." Sherlock spoke and began to run the sponge along the glass. "Like I said when we met, I'd be lost without my blogger, and I am. It just isn't the same taking the big cases without you, especially Lestrade has noticed that I keep turning to talk to you but there's no one there and so I don't say anything, sometimes I even say your name without noticing. It's just not the same without you around and I just don't think I can function properly. I want you back here but I know it won't happen because Mary's taking up more and more of your time. She even texted me through your phone saying that you were busy for the whole week last week." Sherlock spoke softly and soon began to rinse off the glass door before stepping inside and doing the same with the other side. "Somehow I guess, keeping the flat clean and such, I'm just trying to fight for every last bit of hope that I keep losing, that I keep hoping that you'd come back and, I don't know. I want things back to normal. I miss you John. It's not fair, I keep forgetting to eat and sleep because you're not here and there's no one to listen to me play the violin."

John watched and listened to Sherlock as he spoke, feeling pity on the man for a few moments and before anger took over for a minute and slowly it turned into sorrow and distress before he felt guilt. "Sherlock, I wish I could come back. Mary gets angry whenever I visit you because she thinks that you did wrong by coming back to life, and faking your death, especially to me. I already forgive you for that but she's… a bitch sometimes, honestly. I have to admit that at least. I miss everything we do, but you know… You need to learn to live without me because if I had been dead by now, I wouldn't know where you would be. I don't know, I don't think things can be the same again, especially not after your fake suicide." John spoke softly, biting his lip as his eyes cast onto the ground. "I'm sorry Sherlock, I can try and visit more when I can but I don't think I can come back, or help you with cases anymore." John frowned and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I really am. I wish I could, but.." John trailed off and was about to speak again.

"But Mary's the boss, I get it." Sherlock let out a large, sad smile as he made sure to make it evident that his clothes were hanging off too loosely as he worked and rinsed off the glass, soon working on everything else in the tub, it didn't take him too long before he stepped out and sighed. "You just have no idea how lonely it gets here. Nobody visits me, Mrs Hudson hardly does either, there's no reason for her to come up anymore. No ruckus, like you said and no funny smells." Pushing off the gloves, Sherlock glanced at John as he walked past him, out of the bathroom. "Tea?"

"Sher-" John started but was interrupted by Sherlock's question for tea and the disappearance of Sherlock's body behind the wall of the kitchen as he went to make tea. "Sherlock, I-" John tried once more.

"Forget it John, if there's nothing that can't be fixed out of that part of your life, then there's nothing to talk about, is there? By the way, the numbers on your blog is stuck since you stopped." Sherlock spoke as he went to turn on the ironing machine while the kettle screamed for attention.

Giving up, he let out a long sigh, looking over at Sherlock with guilt written all over his face. "Right then… I would help Sherlock, but I'm really sorry. I can't.."

"Well, if you're sorry, why don't you just leave her? Oh right, she brings the opportunity of having a family and she's taken care of you, blah blah blah, I don't want to hear it. It's disgusting enough to make me want to expel my food where I ingest." Sherlock muttered as he poured John a cup before his own, soon carrying it out to him before setting his own on the coffee table. Deciding that his tea could cool down a little while he ironed one of his shirts. Obviously throwing his barrier back up so to not to get hurt further, returning to his stoic self for the moment.

A long sigh escaped John as his shoulders slumped a little before he shook his head._ Sherlock's right as much as I hate to admit it. I don't think the family or marriage is the life for me but I love Mary… I don't want to leave her. If I leave her, I get life with Sherlock again, if not, I may never be his friend again after a few years. Do I really want that? Is it worth it?_

Two more shirts were dangling off the hanger just like they should be, to cool down while he ironed a few more, wanting to finish it all off today. Taking a few breaks, he sipped his tea before continuing with his chores, an awkward silence now dawning upon the two. _I need to say something, I don't want John to leave yet, I need the company._ "Have I missed anything that would be considered boring or entertaining? Surprisingly enough, lately, boring has become entertaining, crap telly doesn't feel like crap telly to me anymore. I think I'm changing John and I'm scared. What if I don't change for the better?"

Slowly, John looked up at Sherlock and watched him iron the clothes. "Well, nothing much really, apart from work and Mary, not that I can think of. Sherlock, I think you'll be alright, even if it's not for the better. If you ever need me, just know that you can always text me if you want and I'll do what I can." John spoke softly and gave a smile, not realizing that he had hurt and upset Sherlock. When he had studied Sherlock as he ironed the clothes, he noticed that his face seemed a little sunken, pale and thinner, his clothes hung off his body a little too much for his own liking. Perhaps Sherlock wouldn't be okay without him. "How can you forget to eat and sleep? I don't understand." John mused, not having noticed he'd spoken out loud.

Quickly answering his question, he sighed. "Because you're not here to remind me, or to make me food and you know that I'm the worst cook. The only decent thing I can cook is toast." Sherlock nearly snapped as he glared down at his clothes, nearly burning them again. "At least I'm bloody good at cleaning and organization!"

Nearly jumping at Sherlock's razor sharp words, he frowned and sighed. "I'm sorry, I should have known that." He spoke softly, feeling scared to say something else to offend his ex-flatmate.

"No John, you've apologized enough. I can't forgive you for moving out without really moving out and leaving me all alone because it's obvious that I'm going to end up dead because of my own fault. I'm the one who should be sorry for scaring you away." Sherlock spoke again. "I'm not sodding worth having friends, alone doesn't protect me, friends do but I'm not going to have one after Mary takes you away from me." Sherlock snapped again, feeling frustrated, confused and angry.

After a moment of silence, Sherlock exhaled before closing his eyes and biting his lip, pausing before looking at John over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped or yelled at you like that. I'm just out of control because I have no one anymore." Sherlock spoke, his voice calm and sad.

Slowly John looked at Sherlock and frowned. Sherlock never apologized before, not like that. It sounded very sincere, he felt guilty all over again before sighing. "Sherlock… I know. It's okay." John spoke softly, not knowing what to say as he finished off the tea, wanting to leave already but he wanted to stay for Sherlock's own sake. He was his best friend and he was supposed to be there for him and now, he now realized that he never really was ever since Sherlock's return.

For most of the day after Sherlock had finished ironing and cleaning up, the two men hung out together and had such a good time as if John never had left, catching up on things. When it was time for John to go, Sherlock gave him the longest and the most meaningful embrace, as if he never wanted to let go. "You should stay a night or two here at some point. Mary can't control you forever despite how much I despise her John." Sherlock spoke softly. "You'll always be my best friend, I want you happy, if she doesn't make you happy, then there's no point in being with her John. Just know I miss you, please text more often." Sherlock spoke before finally releasing the embrace and sighing, watching sadly as John descended the stairs and stepped out onto the street.

* * *

**Written by LZ and TKOD**


	6. Confused

**Sorry this one is a little short but here's another chapter. Here's a warning though: lots of swearing. Enjoy and please review if you can.**

* * *

Fleeing the flat had brought a tremendous amount of confusion for John on his part. As well as anger. John was just about to punch the other when he started shouting random abuse about how it was his fault for making Sherlock feel the way he was feeling. Well, it wasn't _his_ fault, he wasn't informed that his former flatmate was not actually dead and was protecting himself under Sherlock's wing.

God, he had just had enough with everybody's shit. First, his girlfriend was pouring huge amounts of guilt on his behalf just because John just wanted time to himself to relax and let his thoughts be to himself. His stupid woman thought otherwise and didn't trust him leaving their flat with Sherlock around.

Now with Sherlock's opinion on the situation, he couldn't help but agree at the moment, but thinking about his girlfriend like that had sent off some more unpleasant alarms. He just wanted to be left alone and to be let off to do whatever made him happy but he couldn't, not right now. Especially not with the two people he both held dear were at each others throats.

"984, Maryrose street." The blonde had nearly snapped at the cabbie. John noted that he would have to pay an extra tip in sincerity for yelling randomly. He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with guilt.

Once arriving at Mary's flat, he paid the extra tip before slamming the door behind him. A scowl etched into his face as he entered the flat. _God I hope Mary isn't home, it's already late. Please, just let me be alone tonight._ Nope, she could be heard stomping towards him in her silk nightdress, all red in the face with her hands on her hips._ Fucking bloody hell. Just kill me now._

"Are you kidding me? It's 10:30, John! Where the hell were you?!" Mary snapped right into John's face before anger flared inside him, causing him to curl his fists. He kept silent and walked off the the kitchen, placing some fresh tea on the kettle. Hopefully the tea would settle himself down. The army-doctor chose to ignore his blabbering Mary.

"I called you 80 times! No bloody answer, and texts! For gods sakes I hope you weren't at that freaks' flat."

John whipped around. "It was dead. And yes, I was at the," he raised his fingers to make the quotation gesture, "freaks' flat." He practically snarled out before turning back to his kettle.

"John!" Mary snapped. "Why? You know how I feel about you going there! Jesus, you are really thick sometimes." She scoffed.

"You know what?!" John slammed his fists on the counter, causing the all the cutlery to rattle about. "This is all I hear from you. Don't go there, don't do that, god you're an idiot, John." John turned around to face Mary once again. "But you know who the thick one is? _You._ Cause you're too fucking wrapped up in yourself to realize how miserable you make your boyfriend!" John stormed back over to the door, sliding back into his coat.

"You're the ungrateful bastard who doesn't see that I'm trying to protect you!" She hissed, throwing her hands up in frustration while she followed. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" She sneered, looking disgusted at John as she crossed her arms across her chest, leaning onto one foot.

"Getting fresh air." With that, he stepped out of the door and slammed it behind him, breathing in deeply as he clenched and unclenched his fists as if in an attempt to calm himself down. "Stupid bitch." He muttered under his breath before turning to walk towards the nearest pub.

" 'Nother pint please," He slurred. Slapping down another few pounds onto the counter, receiving a raised eyebrow from the bartender. This was his twelfth drink, it would make sense why he would get such a look. John just glared back as the soldier continued to down his drink.

"Rough night?" A familiar voice called. John looked over his shoulder slowly before frowning. _Damn. It couldn't be. Could it be?_

"Lestrade?" John tilted his head groggily, his frown only growing more while the detective inspector flashed a charming smile while nodding, bringing his own drink to his lips.

"The one and only." He chuckled grimly, before smacking his lips with a sigh. "So what brings you here?"

"Clingy girlfriend issues," He grumbled grouchily, sipping into his pint of beer. "You?"

Lestrade gave a smug shrug, "Wife issues." Both the men laughed tightly, tension spread in the air.

"You and her not getting along? I thought you guys were back together." The army doctor said sadly, his heavy lidded eyes back at the D.I.

Lestrade nodded slowly. His expression turning dazed. "She's getting upset that I'm not home all the time because I'm always packed with so many cases. Hardly my fault because Sherlock hasn't been responding at all. I don't know what's up with him." John, of course had felt a pang of guilt smack him right across the face._ Shit… Sherlock wasn't lying about that._ John hid his guilt with another swig of his drink.

Lestrade quirked a brow at the no response he got from that. Of course, the D.I. was trying his best to drop that obvious hint._ Maybe John was ignoring it on purpose? Or maybe the blogger was just that smashed already?_

"John. I know this may be hard for you to take in but you know, you've got to start getting out of the house more and away from, Mary. I know you love her and all and she cares about you dearly but maybe you just need to take a step back and hang out with some mates. You just look miserable." John sighed through his nose, the look in his own eyes was desperate.

"I know.." John mumbled softly. Fixating his ocean blues to the golden liquid. The corner of Lestrade's mouth turned up slightly. His little job was done. _Time to leave._

"Right then. I better be off. There's a killer out here in London just begging to be caught." The detective inspector downed the rest of his drink before walking steadily out of the bar, leaving John alone to his thoughts once again. John took another sip of the beer before looking past everyone, simply deep in thought as he drank away his sorrows.

Around an hour later John found himself stumbling out of a taxi. Slurring his thanks and throwing a wad of cash onto the cabbie.

"He's right.. I need a break.. Better stay 'ere." He murmured as he swayed in his step before walking up to the door of 221B, knocking several times.

"S'erlock? Is me, John."

* * *

**Written by TKOD**


	7. Lost and Forgotten Pt 1

**Hey sorry guys, it's taken me so long to post this, but this is just part one of what's to come. I'm stuck with college-work now so expect the chapters to come a little later with delays. Don't give your hopes up though! I'm definitely eager to finish this one. Still a long way to go yet. Not even halfway through. ;P I've got tons more planned, don't worry. I hope you enjoy this one! -LZ**

* * *

**_November 15th, 2013_**

**_Entry nineteen_**

John came back last night, completely piss-drunk off his arse. He told me everything that happened between him and Mary, it was a little confusing because John wasn't making much sense with his blabbers and slurs. The idiot kept going off-topic a lot and I had to keep reminding him what he was talking about. However, he just managed to finish what he was trying to tell me before he slumped over and passed out on my shoulder. For a moment there, I wasn't sure if he'd died or not but his obnoxious snoring gave it away. I let him sleep on the sofa, took care of him and made sure I had some gravol, painkillers, ginger ale, water and a bucket right beside him if he needed it. I couldn't get to sleep because of John's loud snores but that was fine, I sat on the armchair and watched him sleep all night. The company was nice, even if John was asleep. He's bound to wake up soon so I better make some tea. I hope he stays here for another night.  
-SH

Placing his notebook away, he heard a snort then the snores stopped, a small smile emerged on his own face as he stood and headed into the kitchen to make some tea and toast. This week was the week where he would have to get all the groceries. It didn't sound like much but the food usually ran out within a day due to his experiments but he hadn't done them as of yet.

"Sher-Oh, it's too bright."

John groaned and flew his arm over his face, squinting as his head pounded, it felt like someone was jackhammering at his brain. John heard some shuffling and sliding and slowly peeked his eyes open only to be nearly surprised when the room suddenly seemed dark.

"Thanks Sherlock."

John whispered as if it would help keep his migraine from getting worse.

"John, I set up some things on the coffee table that I figured you would need. There's gravol, painkillers, ginger ale and water. I'm making some tea and toast at the moment. How are you feeling?"

The consulting detective's voice seemed… soft? Caring? No, Sherlock didn't do caring, did he? John shrugged it off then sighed. "Thanks. I've just got one hell of a migraine at the moment but toast and tea sounds good to me. Jesus… What the hell happened last night? I had too much to drink didn't I?"

A smirk appeared on his face as Sherlock finished off the tea and brought over toast and John's favorite jar of jam before he settled down and spoke quiet and soft, keeping John's migraine in mind. "Yes, you turned up on my door last night mumbling something about Lestrade saying it was best for you to stay here for the night or something and I asked why you had too much to drink, you started spouting off about how Lestrade and you had woman problems, and I asked what happened and had you sit on the sofa but you refused to let me sit on my armchair and leaned against me, almost as if you were attempting to cuddle me. Then you started telling me about how Mary was a.." Sherlock quoted with his fingers. "..bitch." Sherlock sighed and paused to sip his tea, taking his time. "You continued to drag off onto other topics and I kept having to remind you what you were talking about, you explained how Mary yelled at you and was upset with why you were hanging out with the.." Sherlock quoted his fingers once again. "..freak." Another pause. "However, just as you finished explaining everything, you passed out on me and I had a bit of a hard time getting out of your rather strong grip. I think you wanted me to be your teddy bear for the night." Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle quietly and sip his tea again.

After hearing everything about what Sherlock had explained from last night. "Oh christ… Did I do anything… You know?" John suddenly felt nervous and awkward.

"No John, you just clung to me like you were going to die if you let go." Sherlock spoke softly, smiling a little at this memory. "Don't worry, I liked it, it made me feel wanted." His own face flushed a little upon saying this as he hid his smirk behind his cup of tea, sipping it once again as he watched John.

"Ah, alright. Good, good." John smiled a little at how needy Sherlock made him sound. Soon taking his tea and sipping it after he'd taken his painkillers and downed them with the water.

Silence. It wasn't awkward, it was… nice.

"So umm… If you don't mind. I do remember the fight last night but umm.. I can stay here another night or two then?" John asked curiously, not wanting to make it too much of a request.

"John. It's still your flat as much as it is mine, I can't deny you from staying in your own home. After all, I would really enjoy the company far more with you here." Sherlock truthfully admitted.

"Ah.. Yes, alright. Thank you." John felt grateful.

"Well, er… I suppose I should go grocery shopping at some point today, if you would like, you can come with me. I would also like the company." Sherlock attempted to change the subject, only to have John seem surprised at Sherlock. "What? Don't tell me you're surprised, you should take a look at how clean the kitchen is. I even bought a new fridge and I cleaned the whole flat when I made a mess out of it and I haven't even taken a case, don't tell me this is surprising to you _now._" Sherlock smirked and raised a brow.

"Ah… No it's just… After all that time I've asked you to get the milk, you refuse, but now I'm just surprised you're going grocery shopping and I haven't taken a glance in the kitchen or the fridge, let alone the drawers and cupboards. I didn't even ask you to do it."

"I'm very well aware of that John, you haven't been home much in the last few weeks to observe how much I've been changing since you've gone. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't notice that something's changed in me. Now, I can fare well and take care of myself alone, although I still do forget to eat or take care of myself because you're not here to remind me anymore. Now, when do you think is a good time to leave? I need to get Mrs Hudson's groceries too." Sherlock attempted to change the subject again as John gaped in shock and confusion.

"Umm.. You what? You.. haven't eaten much? Jesus Sherlock, you were already almost underweight since when I started seeing Mary, your ribs are probably protruding now. Oh god, they are, aren't they? Fine, fine. When my migraine goes, we'll go." John's eyes scanned Sherlock's features and frowned when he noticed that he was thinner, his cheekbones were more prominent than ever and it was starting to scare John. Perhaps he should stay home more often and take care of him but Mary would dump John for that. God, he didn't want that to happen but he was already worried that his flatmate was malnourished and would die on him at any point. "Sherlock.. What am I going to do with you… We're going to need to figure out a way for you to eat… Maybe I should text you and tell you to eat?" John suggested but Sherlock made no response. "Sherlock?" John tried again and sighed. "Right, you're ignoring this, I see. Alright. Sorry."

Sherlock looked up from his tea and sighed. "I don't know, I usually don't feel hungry until my stomach gives me a stabbing pain and that's what reminds me to eat." Sherlock spoke softly, feeling confused as to why he was feeling so open about how he thought and how he felt about certain things.

A simple, small nod came from John.

It was around noon when the two flatmates were walking together down the street towards Tesco's. Sherlock had Mrs Hudson's grocery list in his pocket, deciding that it would be best to get what Mrs Hudson wanted before finding what he wanted in their flat. John pushed the cart as Sherlock went about, grabbing the groceries. Baking powder, baking soda, flour, butter and margarine, eggs, cinnamon, bread, brown sugar, fruit, vegetables, tea packets, croissants and some frozen chicken for Mrs Hudson. Obviously she was going to bake something again, it sounded like something delicious. Now, it was their turn to find food for themselves, soon picking out some bread, jam, peanut butter, tea packets, coffee granules, juice, chicken, ham, mustard, ketchup, eggs, snacks, fruit and vegetables, cheese and milk. John was rather impressed with Sherlock since he was the one who went about, choosing food and such. John didn't miss the muttering of Sherlock in which he heard something about baking and making special dinner for… He missed that last part but it sounded similar to his name. Perhaps Sherlock found someone special but he shrugged it off and dismissed that thought.

They were about to head to the checkout when Sherlock suddenly stopped and looked at John with somewhat of a baffled look on his own face. "Umm, was there anything you wanted? Did you see anything that seemed of interest to you? I never did ask what your favorite meal was, along with dessert." Sherlock spoke and John shook his head. "Jam and toast was good, I'm good. I'm not home much so you're the one eating the food." That seemed like a good enough reason for Sherlock as he continued to walk to the checkout.

Once they were already back on the street, heading home. Sherlock was quiet but he seemed deep in thought. John knew better not to interrupt but he did anyways. "Sherlock, my favorite meal is alfredo with four-cheese and mushroom sauce and ceasar salad with chicken bits in it, also my dessert would be cheesecake. Preferably chocolate but I can do any kind of cheesecake, drink would be red wine." John couldn't help but smile as Sherlock seemed to note that in his mind.

"Sherlock… I… Have you found anyone of interest? I mean… I thought I heard you talking about dinner with someone?" John stuttered a little.

"It's nothing. There's no one. Ah, we're back." Sherlock spoke and gave a smile. "I'll take Mrs Hudson's groceries to her, meet you in the flat." Sherlock spoke and soon knocked at Mrs Hudson's door before handing over the groceries to her and got a hug and a kiss on the cheek as a thanks before he turned and headed up to the flat to help John put the groceries away.

"Oh, Sherlock… I think I remember Lestrade mentioning something about Anderson's birthday party on Friday night. I think we should go, you know… Just to be nice, we don't have to stay for the whole night. I mean we could just show up just for the cake. You know how much I like ice cream cake. I know you hate Anderson and that he's an idiot but just this once then I promise you'll never have to go again. Alright? Just you and I. No Mary." John suggested as he put away the groceries, feeling surprised at how clean the kitchen was and it was void of every experiment that there was.

Sherlock sneered at the mention of Anderson then he narrowed his eyes, then let out a long, dramatic sigh as he helped put away the rest of the groceries before putting the kettle on. "Fine, fine… Only because you're going. I'll go." Sherlock gave in and made a face as no thoughts about ditching the party came to mind. "I'm not much of a party person, you know." Sherlock smirked slightly and found himself feeling that twist of pain in his stomach so he ended up having to make some ham sandwich for himself.

John felt somewhat happy that Sherlock had agreed to go, but only because he was going. John smiled and let out another sigh as he began to pour some tea for himself and Sherlock. "Good… I'm glad. So, is there anything new I should know about? It seems so that I've learned more about you in the last two days than I have in the last few years I think. Is it because I left?"

"Yes." Came Sherlock's simple reply, he didn't really feel like talking much about it so he let out another soft sigh, picking up the newspaper and quickly skimmed through it before handing it to John, sipping his tea as he stood and went to the sofa and turned on the telly. Sherlock never yelled at it anymore because there was no one around to be amused. Even though John was around now, Sherlock didn't feel like spouting off his insults and deductions now, in which surprised John. Sherlock was surprising John more and more these days, if anyone asked, it didn't sound like Sherlock was his usual self anymore, he just seemed lonelier. After reading the newspaper, he sat down besides Sherlock, although not too close or too far. With the background noise of the crap telly playing, John's mind wandered a little.

It seemed too peaceful now at 221B.


	8. Lost and Forgotten Pt 2

**I know it's been way too long since I last posted and I'm SO sorry! I'm just starting my first year in college and it's been busy, busy, busy! I finally managed to fit some time in to write another chapter. The next one shall be coming up soon but keep in mind that here's a hint for the next chapter... SUPER ANGST! Heh, better prepare yourself for that! Thank you guys for your support! I appreciate it and please, please do enjoy and review! :) -LZ**

* * *

_**November 17**__**th**__**, 2013**_

_**Entry twenty**_

It's been two days since John had showed up on my doorstep completely the opposite of what I would call sober. So far, so good. It seems that things are back to normal... Somewhat. I still haven't taken a single case, I haven't done an experiment and I haven't been the ignorant arse, at least to John. I suppose that's a good thing. I think he notices that there are things about me that have changed ever since he left. I don't think he can decide whether it was a good thing or not. Well, he still bugs me about how I'm still underweight and I can see that he expects some sort of rude remark about it but every time, he's surprised when I don't and simply shrug it off, then he continues to ramble on about what'll happen if I don't eat and how I should eat more. I always want to say something selfish about that being Mary's fault and about how I feel towards John but every time I open my mouth, it seems that nothing can come out. I don't know why but this annoys me so much. I really wish John could read my mind or understand how I feel about him. Even if that was possible, I don't think that would help in getting rid of Mary and having John back in my life again anyways. At the moment, I feel clueless and I feel like an idiot, I don't understand why I'm acting this way. I feel like I'm a school girl all over again, giggling and blushing at a crush. Of course I don't bloody giggle because I'm not a _girl!_ Anyways, back to the topic on hand... I think John is starting to get some of the hints that I'm dropping because my sodding voice continues to betray me when I'm about to express myself honestly. Oh god, I'm ranting again. I can hear the kettle whistling, John's up.  
-SH

Closing the notebook, he set it aside and looked up to see John standing in the doorway, simply just looking at him.

"What?"

"Nothing, what were you writing about?" John asked curiously, tilting his head as he leaned against the door frame.

"It's nothing, just notes about ideas for experiments. Don't worry about it. What're you doing in here? Come to wake me for some tea?" Sherlock lied horribly as he placed his notebook in his drawer and stood, stretching like a cat then letting out a loud sigh. Soon pulling on his robe as he walked over to the doorway, ready to head into the kitchen but John was still blocking his way.

"Y-No- I mean.. I don't know, Mary called this morning and she wants me to come home, I really don't want to after what had happened. You're my best friend and I don't want to lose you, you know. I really do miss taking cases with you but every time I want to or even talk about it, I can't because of Mary and the fact is that..." John paused and let out a long sigh, seeming sad as he slowly straightened his figure, turning to head into the kitchen to pour the two men some tea, handing one to Sherlock just how he liked it. "Umm, Sherlock... I'm terrified that if I end up marrying Mary, I'd lose you because Mary doesn't want me around you and you have no one else but me because I'm the closest person you have and I know that, but if I were to return to 221B and continue living here like before, I'd get you back but that would mean I would end up losing Mary, so I don't know what to do. I... I prefer it here but I just wish I could have both." John spoke quietly as he sat down at the kitchen table, looking torn and depressed somewhat.

This struck a chord in Sherlock's heart and he frowned as he looked up at John. His own heart shattered to pieces at the thought of what he was about to say.

"John... As much as I hate to say this, if you really do love Mary and if she makes you that happy, then you should go with her. This goes against my feelings and how I feel about everything, including yourself, I want you to choose who makes you the happiest. If it's me, then great! I'm thrilled and I'd probably be the happiest guy in the world again. However, if you decide that it's time for a new life and to leave everything behind and start anew, then..." Sherlock's voice cracked and he tried not to look sad as he scrunched up his face and blinked a few times to force the tears back. Sherlock never cried in front of anybody and he wasn't about to. Clearing his voice, he started again and sighed. "Then... You should go ahead and... move on. Although if you do decide to move on, I would ask for you not to contact me again because..." Sherlock trailed off and he left the words that he wanted to say, unspoken. For now, he just stared at a spot on the table before closing his eyes as the tears began to well up then he sipped his tea, letting the burning sensation force them back again. For the moment, he couldn't meet John's gaze, not wanting to see his reaction to how heartfelt Sherlock's words were.

That tone in Sherlock's voice made him listen. After hearing his words, he couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat and he could tell that Sherlock was trying not to cry and that was when he knew the gist of how Sherlock felt about him. Right now, he understood that Sherlock wanted him to be happy but he found that he was happiest with Sherlock due to Mary being too clingy and needy but he wanted a family too, although if he chose Sherlock, that was probably unlikely. John didn't even know if Sherlock wanted to adopt or even have a normal family. Hell, he didn't know if Sherlock even liked children at all. John's shoulders slumped when he heard that Sherlock didn't want to have contact with John if he chose Mary and there was no explanation that the detective gave, although he somewhat understood. John knew that it would hurt Sherlock far too much if he was ever to contact him again because of the fact that he chose Mary over his best friend.

Right now, John was overwhelmed with his feelings and he needed to think long and hard about this. This was a decision that would change his life forever.

John spoke as he stood and washed out his cup before setting it aside then walking over to Sherlock, patting his shoulder and keeping his hand there. "Sherlock... I understand. Please don't stress over this, I'll need to give it a week or so to think about it. I'm not choosing right now, I can't decide but I promise, I won't betray you and I'll tell you what my decision is when the time comes, okay? Right now, I think I need to go get some fresh air, should do me some good I think. Umm... I'll be back, okay. If not then I'll just text you and see you at Anderson's birthday party on Friday. Sound good?" The army doctor squeezed his shoulder in a gentle gesture and gave him a smile before he slipped on his coat and shoes. With that, he slipped out into the brisk, cool London air.

And now Sherlock was alone again.

With the time that had passed, Sherlock wondered if John was ever coming back but the minute his own phone went off, he knew that he wasn't so he didn't bother checking for now.

It wasn't long before the loneliness kicked in and he was left feeling hopeless, so the only thing he was left to do was to lay on the sofa and re-organize his mind palace.

_**November 19th, 2013**_

_**Entry twenty-one**_

Lestrade has decided that it would be best that I got the week off because I get to go to Anderson's birthday. Bloody Anderson! It's been two days since John left. I think I just screwed up a little and I don't know what to do. I didn't cry when John left. I was so sad though. I feel hopeless and all I've done since John left was to reorganize my mind palace and lay in bed moping about. I haven't eaten since then because I'm not hungry. John hasn't texted me since he told me he was going to go home. I guess this isn't home to him anymore. I guess it's official. I'm alone again. I hate it. I want John back. At least I'll be able to see John again at Anderson's party which is tomorrow night but I don't want to go because it's bloody fucking Anderson, but I'm only doing this just so I can see John again. Besides, he promised me he would be there. I'm looking forward to it, I guess. I already miss him. Oh for bloody god's sakes. I'm going to go cry now.  
-SH

_**November 20**__**th**__**, 2013**_  
_**Entry twenty-two**_

Anderson's party is tonight. I'm going to buy more groceries and I'm going to stock up until my kitchen is full of food. I just feel like shopping to pass the time by. John still hasn't texted me. I can't blame him because I haven't looked at my phone since he texted me back after that walk.  
-SH

Placing his notebook aside and in his desk's drawer, he decided that he would shop as much as he could for today and perhaps buy some new clothes if he could. At least he had Mycroft's debit card again, He was able to spend it but he knew that Mycroft disliked it when he did so but it didn't matter since Mycroft never made him pay the money back. The detective's brother was the damn government, what could he expect? A death penalty? Nah.

After having spent the whole day running back and forth between the flat and Tesco's, he stocked up on everything he could think of, even though he hardly ate but more was better than less, Sherlock jumped into the shower and managed to clean himself up and even dress appropriately for the party.

**You're going to the party still, right? –SH**

No reply.

**You promised me John. I'll see you there. –SH**

Still no reply.

A sigh escaped Sherlock then he shook his head, soon grabbing his coat and putting everything on, he left the flat and caught a cab_. John must've forgotten his phone somewhere, or it must've died or he must be on his way already. John will be there. He promised._

Once the cab arrived at Anderson's house, he couldn't help but feel nervous as butterflies swarmed his stomach, he bit his lip and shakily paid the cabbie the fare before he stepped out, slowly heading inside. He was now beginning to feel reluctant that he actually arrived.

It was a massive party, it was almost a scene from a movie where people were standing and chatting to each other, the house and the backyard was completely full of people. In a room there was people jumping and dancing around to the blaring music. _Oh god, kill me if Anderson sees me. I don't want to be here._

"Hey freak! You actually came!" Shouted a familiar voice from behind, however it was a little slurred. _Fuck me._

Slowly, Sherlock turned around to find a giggling Donovan leaning against the banister of the stairwell from upstairs, her hair was a little messy as he poked at Sherlock's chest. "What the fuck are you doing here? You hate Anderson and everyone hates you, why show up here? You freak. I heard your little pet got drunk the other night and came back crying to you." _That's it, I'm ruining your life, you little shit. _However, before he could even say anything, someone caught his attention.

"HA! FREAK!" Anderson shouted rather loudly from the top of the stairs, stumbling a little as he made his way down the stairs, attracting some people's attention, causing Sherlock to roll his eyes. _Such a dramatic idiot. Go kill yourself already._ "What're you doing here?! Come to say happy birthday to me?! HA! I didn't think you were so... so..." Anderson stuttered as he tried to find the word. "Ah! Well, I thought you were a sociopathic asshole! Heh! Go get drunk and party then!" Anderson spoke loudly then looked at Donovan, grinning like an idiot. "Hey babe, ready for round three?" Anderson spoke, already distracted as he began to grind against her.

Sherlock simply remained quiet as he rolled his eyes and walked away, deciding to stick outside where it was quieter and there was less people. _How can anyone be so fond of that idiot? Did the whole city come just for the party and cake? Such idiots._

Hours passed before the cake was served and half of the party had left or died down. Even though cake was Sherlock's favorite, he didn't want any in case someone had put something on it, or in it. Better to be safe than sorry in this case. After everyone had some cake and Anderson opened his gifts, they went home, including Sherlock.

It was just past midnight when he arrived at the flat and sighed, checking his phone only to _just_ receive a text from John.

**How was the party? I forgot and Mary wouldn't let me go anywhere and she kept begging me to go on a date with her. –JW**

**Why didn't you text me that beforehand? Donovan and Anderson were... Nevermind. Goodnight. –SH**

**They were what? Right, okay. Goodnight Sherlock. –JW**

_**Entry twenty-three**_

Bloody fucking Anderson. I hate him. He's an ass, and so is Donovan, what the hell were they intending to do? Shag each other in front of the whole bloody house! I didn't see Lestrade there, or anyone else that I knew.

Speaking of people that came, John wasn't one of them.

I'm so disappointed and hurt that he didn't show and because of sodding Mary. I hate her! God! Why are people such idiots and... UGH! I'm so angry and frustrated right now that I can't even think straight, all I want to do is bloody swear and shoot at the damn wall. I won't. I won't. I'm just going to go for a walk. I'm out of here.

-SH

With that, Sherlock stormed out of the flat, the sound of the door slamming had awoken poor Mrs Hudson from her slumber.


End file.
